Erroneous
by Maya Sushi
Summary: As long as I kept thinking about the science parts, I wouldn't have to think about the horrifying, terrible, devastating parts. He said he wouldn't die. That was obviously a lie, and I had to fix it now. At least help him keep his promise.


_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or the wonderful story of Brotherhood that it is. But what can I say? Brothers just hit me deep. I love brothers. River runs through it? What? It has brothers in it? Pop that shit in that telly!

_**A/N: **_Another one-shot! Gasp! Okay, I'm sort of ashamed to say this, but I actually cried writing it. And the first time I read through it. But it was like three thirty in the morning so I'm not sure if they were tears caused by the story, or by the fact that I was reading and writing it while I was dead tired. Anyway, I like it. I hope you guys like it to. Tell me what you think :) Please.

This is an alternate look to the ending of the first anime. Al is slightly out of character, but remember that his brother just got stabbed through the chest by someone who claimed to be his brother from another time and he is currently the Philosophers stone. He's allowed to be a little angry sometimes. We all know its in there. I don't think he's out of character, but some others might, so I'd like to apologize if you do think so. Read on :D

* * *

_**Erroneous**_

When the arm of the homunculus Envy – my brother? – pierced through my brother's back in a spray of gore, I instantly knew what I had to do. The realization of what I had to do came first, and then, devastation hit hard. How could he let it come to this? He was all I had! And here he lay empty and bloody on the floor of this eloquent ballroom.

My brother was _dead._

Something that had always been too close, nipping at his heels, that's what death was. But never had I even considered the possibility that it could ever catch up. Never did I think those vice-like jaws could be clasped around my brother's neck, waiting to steal his final breath. How many times had he cheated death? And it had all been to get here, the stone, the gate, the promise they made. It was all gone now.

So was the light in my brother's eyes.

With those golden irises extinguished, the world instantly turned at least two shades darker. Someone had flipped the switch on life. Desperation came gnawing at my soul, and it was all I could do to take a second to think. Rose's voice came back to her with a solid, strangled cry of my brother's name that ripped through my metaphorical heart.

"Edward!"

Surely it would be enough.

When I arose and moved to make my way out of the transmutation circle Dante spoke to me. I couldn't find it in me to care what the words were that fell from her rotted body and rotted soul. I'd fucking kill her if I had the time. But I didn't, Ed's soul wouldn't be at the gate for long.

That was so unlike me. I wonder what Edward would say. Maybe he'd be proud.

I felt sad now. Angry and sad. There were no fancy terms or detailed descriptions that could express how I felt. My brother was _dead._

But not for long.

I took the time that I wasted crossing the room to get to him to go over my plan in my mind. I was going to use the stone to bring him back, and if that wasn't enough, I'd use my soul. I suppose. Either way, I would be doing the world a favor. It wasn't as beautiful when it was so dark.

Less of a plan and more of a reaction – an action, and a reaction, to be precise – and the hope for the outcome. I was not a hundred percent sure this would work, but it seemed well enough – it had to, I would _make_ it work – a hypothesis to be worth testing.

As long as I kept thinking about the science parts, I wouldn't have to think about the horrifying, terrible, devastating parts.

My two gloves of hardened leather – my hands, instruments of creation, of destruction – press together as if I am praying to God. I find this funny and ironic that Ed and I had never believed in such silly things, and yet here I was – and he was dead – praying for his life. I didn't care who or what did or did not exist – the Truth, the gate did – I just wanted someone to hear me. I didn't care who or what heard me, the lord, the devil, an angel, a serpent, a god be damned chupacabra for all I cared. As long as a chupacabra would bring him back. As long as it could light up those eyes and let sweet breath pass over those paling lips.

He really was the picture of excellence – _was _– but now he was vacant, empty, dead.

He said he wouldn't die. That was obviously a lie, and I had to fix it now. At least help him keep his promise.

A promise is a promise after all.

And who's to break a promise?

I'd like to pretend I can feel his stiffening face as I touch my unfeeling hands to his skin. Lost to the sensory, but I can still imagine warmth that may still linger there, like a promise in itself; or the grim chill behind it that will threaten to overcome that warmth. I can imagine these things – and fail, because I cannot _remember_ these things – but I cannot linger, because knowledge will begin to course through my veins. My thought process is increasing ten-fold and the gifts the gate has selfishly bestowed upon me to form equations, formulas, data, – a glimpse of optimism – observations, and careful calculations.

The surge of knowledge that flew through me made me reminiscent back to days before I remembered my time at the gate. Ed must have felt this terrifying burst of heart-wrenching terror each time he pressed his palms together – to create a circle, and propose equivalency – and the memories came rushing back like some sort of tsunami of regret. And how many times had Edward seen the gate – real or farce? More than once by a long shot.

Now he was there again, just as I had been, a terrified soul. Now it was my turn to save my brother from the eternal nightmare that may very well lay behind those ancient doors. Biting ice and burning flames fit for the sinner, or perhaps an infinity of nothing, an endless awareness of presence without being. Would it be hell that would wait for such a golden angel? Of course not, the mortal world awaited his return once more. Besides, I didn't believe in petty things like heaven and hell. Our fates will forever remain undetermined, or if at all – unbeknownst to ourselves. Two brothers, and we will live for each other, and we will die for each other. That was the way it was always meant to be.

But dying? Not yet.

Alchemical lights blinded my vision and gave me transition into the too-white darkness of the gate. Opening wide its vicious maw. As if caught in the act, it halted , and firmly began to slowly shut, and I swore I saw the briefest glimpse of my brother's puzzled expression as he turned from it – what had been only moments ago, his imminent fate. This was gone just as quickly as it occurred, and I wondered idly if it had been my imagination.

_"Alphonse Elric."_

I turned quickly to face the voice – voices – that had emanated from behind me – all around me? – and visibly started when no one was there.

_"Look at yourself."_

I looked down at the hand I now held before my face. It was a pale pink in color, thin and fleshy, with sharp joints and taught skin, nails that had grown without care, and the smallest wisps o flight golden hair ghosting across the digits. This was indeed – as I had described it before – _my hand._ A moment of happiness gripped me so hard and so suddenly that I feared I might faint.

If I were to faint in this place, what would become of me – of my soul?  
A golden smile coasted before my vision for a moment, and I almost heard a sound that sounded strangely like my brother's voice. The sight was gone within the instant once more, yet I still heard the half-mumbled words of some distant conversation. My happiness left me and I felt – _felt _– a frown pull hard at the corners of my lips.

"This isn't what I want," I stated, determined and hardened. I hear more quiet syllables I can't begin to understand in their current volume, and the Truth – the one, God, me, you – the gatekeeper's voice rang out again. However, it did not address me.

_"No. Edward. Let him speak. Let us see what it is that he __**does**__ want."_

I realize with sudden clarity that surely Edward could see me. He was somewhere, here, in this emptiness – in which I was clear to him but he was obscure to me – and we were both speaking to the same being. With the thought of my brother's certainly scrutinizing gaze upon me I became slightly anxious. But I knew what it was that I had to do.

Edward had always been stubborn and hard headed. He held onto an idea or goal like it was a lifeline, as if it were for the moments that it belonged to _him_ – the _only_ thing that he lived for. He held onto that one thing with disturbing sense or desperation and _would not let it go._ Now it was my turn to grasp onto something tight within my clenched fist. To wrap my fingers around it and hold on until finally it wasn't mine anymore. It was beyond me.

Right now, this belonged to _me._

"I want you to return his soul to his body," a frown that I would have before said was a figment of my overactive mind now lay on the ghost image of my brother's face. He turned from my direction and took one soft step toward another wraith of a figure, a silhouette of death and life – and truth. A laugh sounded harshly through the air around me, and I restrained the urge I suddenly had to gag and rid my stomach of the horrible feelings that instantly swam within me. So I clenched my every muscle and set my jaw, hoping, to make my determination evident in the very essence of my core, my soul.

_"Look at him. Edward. There's no changing his mind." _

Of course Ed – my brother – of course he would want to change my mind. To take this opportunity to save _him_ away from _me. _He wouldn't though, because I was finally in control, and this belonged, really belonged, to me. _Right now._ Of course he would feel instant guilt, that I would give up this chance at the restoration of what I had lost. But I would not give up this fight, for I had lost _my brother, _and _he_ would be restored.

"You can't bring the dead back to life. You know this. Al, I –" Edward's voice rang out around me, the last – interrupted – note of echoing off every non-existent plane and surface here. Swirling currents and drifts made up of _nothing at all._

"But his body is still there. Still warm." I tell the Truth, though the last part is mostly a guess. I ignore his choice to let my brother be heard, and then his obvious change of mind in cutting of my brother's protests. I still see nothing, "I can use the stone to pull his soul back. Without sacrifice."

_"You are correct."_

Another moment passed in which an inaudible exchange of words must have been made. I wished that I could see my brother, speak to him, know what he was saying. What he had was _not_ an advantage, however. As I could not be swayed. I had reached the point in which I had to step up and do what was necessary. He could not stop me.

_"You are correct as well. Edward."_

The voice sounded as if it were appraising something, weighing some sort of option. I hoped it realized _I_ was the one with the toll, the request, the determination. Edward shouldn't be able to find a way out of what I was doing for _him. _It should address _me._

_"Yes. That would be enough. I suppose. You're intelligence has surprised me once more. I like the way you think."_

"No!" a sudden burst of anger overcame me, and I wailed the words out into the endless abyss with fury and rage, "This is _mine!_ _I'm_ doing this! My brother is _dead, _and _I'm_ saving _him_ and _nothing_ can change that!"

_"You've struck a chord I see."_

Another sickly laugh, and I also felt as if I were being thoroughly ignored this time. As well as sick to my stomach.

"No." I said firmly, "Do it now."

_"Very well."_

As its response came my vision seemed to clear. The gate, which had never fully returned to its dormant position, slammed suddenly closed and my brother was fully before me. His expression was horrified, and behind him was a great, translucent being, a grin spreading hugely across its face – a face; was it? A toothy grin that was amused and sadistic. My brother's empty eyes trailed up the body he had searched for for years – that had always been _right here_, so close – and the devastated expression never fell out of his topaz hues, "You're such an idiot." the words fell from his mouth in a hushed a sorrowful whisper, regret tinging the punctuation mark at the end.

I suddenly felt a pang of fear.

The world was before me again before I could even comprehend the change. The fear was still tight and constricting within my throat and my lungs, but I was excited above all else. I had done it, obviously, since I was here and okay and back – once more, in the armor that had been my home for years. My moment of courage and sacrifice had pulled through, and I was to have my brother back.

I was laying on the ground, a metaphorical smile alighting my being in its entirety. When a strangled gasp failed to elude my grasp – as I heard the sound quite distinctly, actually – and my rising soul dropped down to the floor in a lot less time than it had taken to rise.

I sat up, my eyes searching vigorously through the room for blonde locks and black fabrics, and found him quite easily. He was the only one in the room apart from a crying baby and their silent mother holding tight to their small body. Wherever Dante and Envy and Greed went to I couldn't bring myself to even be slightly concerned with. The mother's face was the picture of devastation, and I wondered at the petrified expression that seemed frozen across her dark features. Her eyes were trained on the very object of my next immediate interest – his brother. Who was lying, gasping for air, in a pool of blood – one that wasn't entirely from the past.

"What did you do?" Rose's voice came out a whisper this time.

I was at his side in moments, and terror filled my heart along with confusion as I took in the large hole that had remained in my brother's chest, blood spilling from the wound in cups, pints, gallons – _too fast._

"Idiot," the sound was garbled and pushed forcibly through a mouthful – a lungful – of blood, "your body... but instead... did you even _think?"_

And I realized my mistake immediately. One that Edward had been attempting to warn me of. Not to save his own life, or to ensure he did not suffer, but to convince me to make the right decision. To take my body with the stone.

Because attaching a soul to a mortally wounded body wasn't going to get me my brother back.

I should have been clearer. I should have heard Ed out. _"...and heal him."_ The words should have fell from my mouth exactly that way. And the resounding _"Very well." _should have ended without suffering and regret.

"Come... Here..." I moved closer to his shaking body. I doubted he even had a minute left. The sorrow and despair truly grabbed me now. I choked on air I couldn't breathe. His hand flew up and knocked hard into me, my helmet flew off to the side. I despaired even more at this, his brotherly lecture of what must have been meant as a slap. It touched me and strangled me all at once.

He touched his fingers together softly, and then pressed them meaningfully toward my blood seal. The act only moments ago that seemed so sweet and final and brotherly now seemed less like a gesture and seemed to have some deeper reasoning now, what was he doing? His fingertips pushed lightly on my anchor to this world and it felt, painful? No – not pain, I didn't feel pain – more of an uncomfortable sense of foreboding. Another flash of alchemical lights, fireworks that sent us straight into another world – yet still our world, all of it. Me. You.

He was in front of me. All whole and well – without a gaping hole in his chest, or a mouthful of blood – and he looked sadly down at me.

Down? I looked at my hands and saw they were flesh and blood once more. I looked up as sudden realization flooded through me.

"What?" was the only word I managed to utter.

Edward sighed, "I tried to warn you, you freaking dummy. You should have fixed yourself first. Instead of being an idiot," he smiled, "lucky you have a genius for a brother."

"How?" I was fully aware that these may be my final moments with him, and I should learn to speak in complete, coherent sentences, maybe add a few, possibly meaningful, words in there too. But too many things were going through my head at once, and I could hardly put the three letters of _"How?"_together in the first place.

"Listen. You thought that because you had the stone that the exchange would be without sacrifice, but you were wrong. A sacrifice is something meaningful, just the thought of it, the pure, reckless abandon and dedication of it. You sacrificed the stone for my soul, yes, and my body couldn't house a soul, and a life, especially in such a tenuous form, would not be enough for your body."

"Why?" I cut him off. It seemed like an equal trade, if not over balanced on Edward's side. What could hold more value than his brother's life?

"Well, how could my miserable life be worth as much as _you,_" Ed scowled, the question was made rhetorical, more of a statement than anything, and he said it in a way that suggested I shouldn't have even asked in the first place. I realized then that I was crying, it felt so weird. "You, dumb ass, did make a sacrifice that meant something more. You sacrificed your one chance at your own body, for a chance at getting me back my life."

"So, I sacrificed your sacrifice, my soul, but in metaphorical terms. Your love and your selflessness in that moment. And my life; which was more than just a life then, it was an embodiment of these things..." he took a huge breath and then looked at me for a long moment, "for _you."_

I noticed for the first time that the gate was behind my brother, and I panicked. I surged forward and wrapped my thin arms around him, holding onto him as tight as I could manage. Years, it had been years since I could touch my brother, and now; now he's leaving me.

"No. You can't do this," I wailed, clutching him closer, "you can't!"

He was stiff beneath me, his shoulders hard and firm. He took one solid, shuddering breath, before encompassing me in the greatest bear hug of my life. For one moment, I felt him all around me. I felt safe. I felt loved.

"Brother," I whispered, it was hard to form words, it was hard to breathe, "you're taller than me."

His hands clutched at my shoulders tightly, and I noticed that they were both flesh, blood, Edward – both his hands. He shook me once before drawing my gaze to his, level and filled with golden fire.

"You listen to me right now Alphonse Elric. Are you listening?"

He shook me hard once more and I nodded, but I looked behind him. Fear stealing me away, as the gate began to slowly open its haunting jaws.

"No! Look at me," Ed said, hands gripping me tighter. And I did. His face was gravely serious, but his eyes were shining with unshed tears, "look at me, damn it! Listen, Al, you're my brother, okay? Never forget that. I love you, you fucking dumb ass, because you're my brother."

"You're my brother," I whispered. And he closed his eyes, letting go of me and stepping back – where the shadows could reach and claw at him, take him away. "No! You're my brother!" I said it louder now, as the small hands grabbed his outstretched limbs. I was shouting now, "I love you, you fucking dumb ass, because you're my brother!"

The last thing my brother ever did was reach out his fist and open his eyes to look at me. Really look at me. His face was calm and his fierce, determined – infamous – scowl that I knew so well was set firmly in place. But thick, silent tears streamed down his cheeks. He reached out his fist and I reached out mine and for one last, final moment, our knuckles touched.

"Brothers?" he whispered, "till the end?"

"Till the end," I told him, "and then some."

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_**A/N: **_I teared up a bit at the end. It's late again and I didn't sleep _at all_ last night and I'm listening to Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down). Bad combination. I hope someone enjoyed this. Thanks for reading, you guys are awesome, really.


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